Little Brown Box
by SometimesLifeHappens
Summary: Dean is sent back to hell after making another crossroads deal; his dying wish is for Castiel to deliver something to Sam, who he hasn't spoken to in 5 years.


**Little Brown Box  
**_Five years ago, Dean and Sam went their separate ways. They haven't spoken since; Sam didn't want to get sucked back into the life and Dean couldn't face his brother after making another deal with a demon to protect him and his family._

**11:59 PM.  
**_Residence of Amelia and Sam Winchester_

It's five years later.

Some old movie's on screen. Sam's not into it, Amelia is. That she's happy, tucked up under his arm, head resting on his shoulder, is all that matters. The kids are asleep upstairs, dreaming peacefully. The dog is probably asleep at the end of a bed, or maybe stoically guarding a door. It's comfortable.

**11:59 PM.  
**_Singer Auto Repair House; temporary residence of Benny, Castiel, and Dean Winchester_

It's five years later.

They patched up the house a few months ago, and had been using it as a place to stay in between hunts. Now, the air that once breathed with the echoes of children playing, of men fighting, of life and death and what little Dean had come to know as family, was still. The silence was eerie as three men waited, the bright red of a dusty clock leaving no room to forget what was to come.

**12:00 AM.  
**_Residence of Amelia and Sam Winchester_

Credits roll. Sam suggests that Amelia go up, check on their children. Get ready for bed. She moves up the stairs, sluggish as the wood creaks below her slippered feet. Sam takes his time, stands, stretching. Oblivious.

**12:00 AM.  
**_Singer Auto Repair House_

The wind stirs, bringing a draft into the room. The clock's backlight flickers. The faint sounds of growling, invisible claws scratching the floor begin. The worn, calloused hand of a hunter grips the smooth one of an angel's vessel, and the eyes who've seen death many times flash with fear as they meet those of the vampire, the rock in their storm. He nods, understanding. This is it. The righteous man, his angel, and the vampire he raised from perdition, all awaiting the death of one Dean Winchester. Again.

The door caves in. The angel clings, cries, screams, but it's no use. Death comes quickly; the pain is brief, the peace between his lungs caving in and the feel of Hell's scalpel brushing his bare body even shorter.

The vampire stays strong for the broken angel, as he watches Dean use the last of his energy to press a little wooden box into Castiel's bloody hands. Neither of them look inside. Neither of them have to ask. Dean's dying wish is the only thing left of him, and after a moment of horrified stillness, they both rise, carefully picking up the keys to the impala, a lighter, and a bottle of gasoline, and leave.

The blaze sets the skies aglow as they drive away, not looking back. Never looking back.

**12:31 AM.  
**_Residence of Amelia and Sam Winchester_

A knock at the door.

The door whines, as if begging Sam not to see what's on the other side.

A familiar car in the driveway with an unfamiliar driver; a familiar face on the doorstep wearing a familiar leather coat that's much too big. Out of place.

The angel is silent as he holds the box out to the younger Winchester, his face solemn but composure wavering. Sam doesn't have to ask; he knew as soon as their little town fell quiet – too quiet for a world of supernatural beings lurking the dark corners of the night. He just didn't know how much time.

It's been too long, it's uncomfortable. He blames himself. He can see Castiel blames him. He takes the box and takes a step back, unable to look into the blue eyes before him as he moves to close the door. A hand grabs his arm, jerks him forward. Shocked, Sam stumbles, finds himself face to face with pure sorrow. Broken, hushed, the angels breathes; "He loved you, Sam. And he was sorry. So, so sorry."

And then he's gone. The Impala hums as it pulls away from the driveway and disappears into the night.

**12:32 AM.  
**_Residence of Amelia and Sam Winchester_

Sam opens the box. Inside is a little golden pendant on a black leather rope, with a neatly folded note tucked under it.

"_Just doin' my job, right? Watching out for Sammy_."

Silently, fumbling, Sam clasps the chain around his neck, slides the note into his pocket, sets the box onto the table by the door. Takes a deep breath.

"Sam, you coming?"  
Pause.  
"Yeah. Be right up."


End file.
